


Meet Your Match

by worldisyeroyster



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Alternative Universe - FBI, F/F, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-01-20 22:44:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12443391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worldisyeroyster/pseuds/worldisyeroyster
Summary: This is the story of how I Spot Conlon, got paired up with a major criminal to solve his own case.





	1. Chapter 1

It was quieter than any night in Chicago should have been. Almost as if the city was holding its breath.

I swirled my coffee around in my cup, almost absentmindedly, and tried to resist letting out an exasperated sigh.

I saw one of the officers sitting in the back of the van with me try to stifle a yawn and attempt to glance at his watch without letting me see.  
I pretended not to notice but I felt the same way. We had been outside this same building for weeks, the only reason we were still here was because my institution could usually be counted upon.

Even though I haven't been an FBI agent for as long as the others, it was no secret that I was good at my job; good enough to convince the captain that I didn't need a partner. My name had been gaining recognition with every criminal caught. I had been handed case after case, handing them back with a criminal in cuffs. But I wasn't satisfied; they wouldn't give me the one case I wanted. I had watched for years as senior FBI agents rubbed their heads in puzzlement every time a diamond, a painting or some other large amount of money was stolen. After they'd tried everything the could to catch them, they would pass it on to another agent. I started gathering information on my own time, just because I couldn't resist. It was only after I gathered as much information available and had mapped out each of the each of the locations I had begun to see a pattern. Many in the Chicago bureau thought it was ridiculous that the Wind Thief didn't have a pattern, but the captain had decided to give me a shot.

That was 8 months ago.

Every time I came close, the Wind Thief would slip through my fingers, taking priceless paintings and jewelry with them. I was going to need some kind of break in the case if I was going to keep it. Otherwise my chance at catching the uncatchable thief would be over, and I doubt I would be getting another shot. Luckily we had enough evidence to believe the Wind Thief was a girl.

I shook my head to clear the thoughts and took a sip of my now cold coffee. I grimaced at the bitter taste.

After an hour or so, I felt like I was rubbing my eyes constantly to keep them open. I lifted my coffee to my lips, almost spilling it all over myself when the alarms started blaring all around me. I immediately shot up, throwing my coffee somewhere, and forcing the sliding door of the van open.

I was sprinting fast as my legs could carry me towards the sixty story building, in the busy nightlife of the downtown streets of Chicago.

The building belonged to the CEO of BY Insurance, a very, very rich man; and the owner of a very, very expensive painting. I could already hear the sirens coming from the distance as I, and several police officers, rushed inside the building, past the empty security guard post; pulling out my gun in the process.

They re-started the elevator, which had been shut off for the night, and we started heading our was up to the 57th floor.

It was difficult to contain my impatience. Especially with this awful elevator music, and the distant screeching of alarms in the background.

I had set multiple police officers up of the 57th floor where the painting was.

The plan was to wait for the thief to try and steal the painting, and catch them in the act. I handpicked the men to guard it while waiting for the thief to fall into the trap. I squeezed through the elevator doors once they crept open, much too slow for my liking. The blaring of the buildings alarms pounded louder in m ears outside of the sanctuary of the elevator. I ran down the hall and bursted into the corner office.

I stopped in my tracks.

The feeling of achievement that i had felt since the alarms first started ringing, was instantly gone. There, handcuffed to the desk and to each other, where the police officers that I had previously set up. They had tape over their mouths.

My eyes widened in astonishment and horror.

I quickly shifted to the spot where the painting should of been.

Instead in its place, was an empty frame, cracked open and hanging off its hinges, with a piece of sky blue silk hanging from the frame.\

The Wind thief's calling card.

I strode over to the tied up men in rage and disappointment. I ripped the tape off of one of the guys mouth. He winced.

"What the hell happened!?" I yelled.

He was breathing heavily when he answered, "She came out of nowhere. Wasn't even in here for a minute." He sounded frustrated and ashamed.

"How long ago did she leave?" I yelled.

"bout 10 seconds before you came in." He told me, nodding towards the door.

I bolted out the door, yelling at the rest of the police to untie them, then get to the bottom floor and cover all the exits. I was not about to let them get away. With the police covering the lobby, there was no way the thief could get through; maybe hope wasn't lost after all. My finger was an inch from the down button when I heard it.

A door slamming shut.

My gaze snapped to the left, my eyes catching the door that read 'Stairs, Up'. My eyes widened as I abandoned the elevator, and wrenched open the stairwell door and started sprinting up the stairs. I rounded the corner on the stairs and just caught sight of a boot heel slipping out the roofs door.

'Where could she possibly be going?'

Holding my gun firmly in one hand, I chased the thief. I busted onto the roof, letting the door slam against the outer wall. There, casually standing in the middle of the roof, was the thief. She was wearing a hood, casting a shadow over her face, disguising herself.

"Freeze!" I yelled over the wind, pointing my gun at them.

My words seemed to have no effect on them, for they just started walking towards the end of the roof.

"I said freeze!" I yelled louder.

She just kept walking further. She raised something from her hand and slung it over her back. My eyes widened. It was a tube shaped container.

'The painting.'

"Stop! There is nowhere for you to go!" Inching closer, my gun still firmly pointed at them.

Again, she didn't even seem to hear me, just edged back further until they were standing about half a foot away from the ledge.

"Miss! Stop and hand over the painting!" I inched closer keeping my eyes on her. There's no way I was letting her get away.

What I said seemed to finally get their attention.

She picked up her head and looked in my direction, as if noticing me for the first time. I watched as a gloved hand came up and pushed the hood off his face.

I felt my jaw drop as blonde locks tumbled out.

'Holy shit'

The storm thief was no woman. My gun lowered on its own accord. I still couldn't see the exact features on his face because of the darkness, but that didn't stop me from noticing he was attractive.

He unzipped the trench coat he was wearing, revealing a pair of black tight fitting skinny jeans and a black wife-beater. Over that he was wearing a harness with many straps and caribeaneers. With the painting still slung across his back, he bent down and retrieved a caribeener with a rope, which he promptly hooked himself onto with precision. The wind was whipping his hair across his face, and I saw him glance at me again; the only feature that I could make out, was the small amount of light that reflected off his teeth as he grinned. Everything came rushing back to me.

"Stop!" My voice and mind seemed to finally start functioning; I started sprinting across the rooftop towards him. When i was only about fifteen feet away; he gave me a crooked grin, saluted me with two fingers, and stepped backwards over the side of the building.

"Shit!" I yelled, narrowly stopping myself from tumbling over the edge as my hands grabbed where he had just been a moment ago.

My eyes searched the dark night below me, seeing nothing but the rope he was using to jump, and it kept turning through the pulley she had set up on the roof. There was no way I could stop it.

"Damnit!" I cursed, but the wind muffled it.

I whipped open my cell phone to call and see if any of the police had been able to grab him when he reached the street, but then remembered that I had set everybody up in the lobby to stop the thief when they went down.

The rope stopped running through the pulley.

The Wind Thief was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ooooo Pulitzer.... watcha gonna dooooo

Race's P.O.V. - The same night

My eyes closed as my body sailed down the side of the building. My velocity was increasing as gravity pulled me further down. I opened my eyes and saw my reflection staring at through windows. I felt the break system I added, start to work as I soon started to slow down, getting closer and closer to the ground. As I started slowing down, and I felt the familiar pull on my waist as I slowed down. I grabbed the rope with practiced hands and pulled until I came to a stop with my feet almost touching the ground. I unhooked the caribeener with out making a sound, then check that I still had the painting. Feeling the familiar tube in my hands, I slung it over my back and took off into the night. I glanced behind me at the cops, and they were all inside the lobby oblivious to what had just happened. I felt myself smirking. Successful one again.

Spot's P.O.V.- The next morning  
I ran my hands over my face in exhaustion as I walked into the FBI building. I was going to be in so much trouble. I sat down at the desk in my office and let out a deep breath. There was a knock at my door and my best friends Blink and Skittery poked their heads in.   
"Tough night?" Blink asked. I groaned, and gave him my famous 'Spot Conlon death stare.'   
"Alright, Alright" Skittey said, motioning for me with his hands to calm down. "The captain wants to see you ASAP."  
I groaned but nodded my head. Blink looked at Skittery who nodded, and they left. Thank goodness they knew me well enough to leave me alone.  
After a few more deep breaths, I forced myself up and to the captain's desk. 

I groaned stepping out of the elevator. The awful music playing had not made my headache any better. Walking up to Captain Pulitzer's door, I knocked three times.   
"Come in" a gruff voice called. I turned the door handle and entered.   
Pulitzer looked up at me when I entered and set his papers aside. He nodded to the chair and I stiffly sat down.  
"Let me get the straight," He said rubbing his temples. "You had men set up all over the building, yet the Wind thief still managed to get away, taking a priceless painting with her."  
I gulped before responding. "Yes but there is one thing you should know.... the wind thief is no woman."  
He stared at me blankly. I was about to continue when he held up his hand.  
"We've been chasing the wind thief for 3 years, and we're just now finding out that he is a she?!"  
I waited for him to start talking again before I said anything.  
"Are you able to ID him?"  
"No, I didn't see his face, it was too dark." I told him, disappointed at myself.  
He didn't seem to happy in my answer.  
"And he took the painting with him?" He asked, seeming to get more unhappy the longer I sat in front of him.  
"Well... um... not quite sir, that's the other thing I wanted to tell you. You see, I switched the paintings. The one he got was a fake."  
some of the worry lines on is face seemed to go away.  
"Well that's the best news I heard all day." He said, leaning back in to his chair.  
I breathed out a small sigh of relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really short sorry my dudes! The next one will be longer. But seriously, I din't think this book would be popular at all. <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Race is a evil mastermind

Race's P.O.V  
I rolled out of bed and walked downstairs, throwing a robe around myself in the process. I grabbed the newspaper and sat down on the couch. I started flipping through it but didn't see an headlines that read somewhere along the lines of 'Wind Thief strikes again!' or 'The heroic, amazing, talented, totally hot, heart-throb of may, Wind Thief, has yet again fooled the FBI!' Disappointed, I refolded it and went upstairs to change. 

A few hours later I was trying hard not to check my watch for the umpteenth time, waiting for him to show up. It was when I was drumming my fingers on the table, when I heard a soft knock at the door.  
"Finally!" I say, throwing my hands up in a exaggerated exaggeration. I walked over to the door, and swung it open.   
"I know, I know I'm late." He said as he brushed past me into the house. I closed the door and followed him in.   
"Can we do this?" I asked, gesturing my hand down the hallway.  
"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning; its bad enough you made me get up early as well" He grumbled.  
"Y'know it could be a lot worse. You could go back to the museum working for minimum wage." I told him over my shoulder as we went down the basement stairs.   
"And miss out on all the fun you bring me?" He laughed. "No way." I punched the code in for the security pad on the basement door, before opening it.  
"The people you were working for had no idea what to do with your experience." I shoved him. in a playful way.  
"Yeah, well lets get this over with." He pulled on a pair of long rubber gloves. I walked over to one of the doors and unlocked the manual lock, before pulling it open and stepping through. Mush walked in behind me, trying to suppress his excitement, but i could see it in his eyes. On the table, which was lit up by luminescent lights, was the million dollar painting I had stolen last night. I leaned casually against the wall with my arms crossed, as I watched Mush approach the artwork with a critical eye.  
"You just need me to verify it correct?" he asked. I nodded, and he pulled a magnifying glass out of his bag, and resumed his work.

Mush was the person I call whenever I need to have a piece of artwork, or expensive gem verified. I would then pay him ten percent of whatever amount I sold it for on the Black Market. He also knows that amount of money pays for his silence. I chose to hire him because he is the only one I deemed smart enough, both to have the right credentials for the job, and not be stupid enough to go to the police. He knows that if he did, I would be able to make it seem like the guilty person is him.  
"So how did it go last night?" He asked, trying to break the silence.  
"Same as usual." I reply nonchalantly. He nodded but gave no other opinion.  
"Actually, now that I think about it, the FBI has a new person taking the lead." I told him.  
"Well, that's no surprise. The last one was a idiot." He inspected the painting closer, confused. I chuckled in agreement.  
"But, apparently... this one...isn't." He said looking at me. I met his gaze quickly.  
"It's a forgery." He said.  
"What?" I asked, leaning in a little bit.  
"This painting is a fake. It's not the original." I grabbed the magnifying glass from his hands, and stepped close to the painting.   
"See right there." He said pointing to a specific spot. "The crack is painted over. That wouldn't of been present in the original."  
"Dammit!" I yelled, angry at myself. "No wonder, there wasn't an article in the Newspaper!"  
"So the FBI knew you were already planning on swiping this one. I must say, this new guy has definitely got me impressed." I sent a glare in his direction.  
"What? Anybody who can ruffle your feathers must be pretty good." I leaned back against the wall and ran a hand over my face, trying to think.  
"Well, I guess there's only one thing left for me to do." I said, making up my mind.   
"Whats that?" He asked lifting his head back up from the painting.   
"Go find the real one, and steal it." I replied, no tremor of doubt in my voice as I toss the magnifying glass back to him, and started to head out of the room. He caught it with practiced ease.  
"And what would that be?" He yelled after me. I only smirked, and climbed back up the basement stairs.

*LATER THAT NIGHT* (still Race's P.O.V)  
My boots thudded on the sidewalk as I made my way toward the front of the line. The bouncer took one look at me, before raising the velvet rope and letting me through, much to the irritation of people waiting in line. I sent a smile in their direction as I headed inside. I knew that I was attracting a lot of attention from people of all genders as I strode my way through the crowd in a nice fitting suit that made my figure look great. I only dresses like this on a mission, and it was absolutely necessary, otherwise I was most comfortable in a sweatshirt and jeans. I saw my target at a bar, drinking what I assumed was a vodka and tonic. I took a deep breath to get the right character in mind, and started to make my way over to him. I leaned over the bar in the spot next to him, immediately grabbing the bartenders attention.  
"Cosmo, please" I told him. He nodded and started working on my drink.   
Step one in making a good con: Let the mark (the person you're conning) approach you first.   
"I would be careful, they make those strong around here." I almost smiled. I turned my head to my left shoulder and looked at him.  
"I'm Oscar. Oscar Delancy." He said holding out his hand. I already knew who he was. This man was the CEO of NEW-SI-ES Insurance, and the owner of the painting I was planning on stealing tonight.  
"Andy. Andy Marino." I said placing my hand in his. He smiled, and I gave him a small one back.   
"Here you are." I turned and accepted my drink from the bartender. I took a sip from it, but kept my eyes on Oscar. It was important to keep eye contact. He lifted his own in toast, before taking a sip. I put mine down and he smiled again.  
"So what do you do for a living Mr. Marino?" He asked, butting his drink down on the bar once again.   
"I work for the Art Institute in Chicago. I work in the restoration room mostly. What about you?" I asked as if I didn't have a clue in the world and that this was the most fascinating information I had ever heard.  
"I work in Insurance." He said motioning around with his hands like it was no big deal."But i'm also a vast collecter in artwork."  
'No kidding." I thought, but instead I said, "Really? Anything I might know?"  
"Maybe." He said with a coy smile, obviously happy to have me hooked. "Let me buy you another drink, and we can discuss this some more."  
I nodded my head enthusiastically, but inside I was trying not to gag. He ordered another drink for himself, then gestured to me; I ordered the same drink, but with twice the alcohol. He smiled at my action. I wanted to roll my eyes. He obviously thought he was getting lucky tonight.   
Step two in a working con: Alcohol can come in handy. 

After a few minutes of pointless chatter I "accidentally" dropped my wallet onto the floor and he of course being the *cough* perfect gentleman *cough* bent down to retrieve it. At the same moment I switched our drinks, giving him the one with twice the alcohol. An hour passes, and I kept switching his with mine every time the bartender gave us new ones, and when Oscar wasn't looking. He was getting flat out drunk, and didn't even know it, while I was pretending to be. Over the years iv'e picked up a few things. Like how to drink without getting drunk. First you have to start off with a lot of ice to dilute the alcohol, order new drinks without finishing the old one first, and spill....often. My seemingly drunken state seemed to be passing off for a explanation for my clumsiness. I must of been a sight to see. Playing a drunk boy whose I.Q. was not the highest was not one of my favorites, but sometimes it could be fun, especially when it worked.  
"Why don't you come back to my place and I an fix us some drinks there." He said with a slight slur, placing his slightly sweaty hand on my exposed neck. "Maybe I'll even let you see my art collection."  
I sent him a coy smile before getting off the bar stool and just to play my part, I added a bit of swagger to my step as I lead him out of the club. On the outside, I looked like a teenager who had obviously had one to many, and was one shot of vodka away from passing out. But on the inside, I was alert and focused on the task at hand; and right now, that was getting this man to lead me back to his home so that I could steal a million dollar piece of artwork.  
I threw mt hand up to hail a cab once we were outside; I felt him lean into me and throw a arm around my waist. It took all my willpower not to grimace and shove him off me. Soon however we were in a cab and on our way. Twenty minutes later I breathed a sigh of relief when a cab pulled over and I jumped out. His hands had been starting to wander and I had no intention of giving him what he wanted. I wasn't surprised at the size of his house... no scratch that, mansion that he called a home.

He threw a heavy arm around me and started leading m up to the front door. it took him a few tries to get the key in the door, but eventually he swung it open and I helped him stumble inside. The inside was immaculate as it was large. I spotted a bar in the corner, obviously where he entertained his guests. Perfect. I turned to him.   
"Why don't you go freshen up, while I make us some drinks, then we can go look at some of your artwork." I told him, playing with his tie flirtatiously.  
"Sure, and then I think I can find something fun for us to do." He slurred with a wink. I tried not to shudder, and I sent him a smile that could mean so many things from a males perspective. As soon as he left the room, I went behind the bar and started mixing my special drink concoction. It consisted of mostly vodka, and soon I had them ready. I reached in my pocket quickly and pulled out a small vial I had. I flipped open the lid, and poured it into the drink on the left. I quickly slipped the empty vial back into my pocket when he came back into the room. I strode over to him, and placed it into his hand, making sure that it was the correct one. I sent him another smile over the drinks as we toasted each other before taking a sip, though his was more of a swig. He sent me a look that said he liked the taste of the drink, while he started leading me in the other direction. I started counting down in my head, there was still about a minute left. He started leading me down the hallway, sending a drunken smile over his shoulder every few moments.  
"You're very lucky i'm showing you this." He slurred as he started punching a number into the security panel next to one of the doors.  
"Well I'll just have to repay you somehow." I said with a wink. He smiled obviously getting the innuendo I had intended, and opened the door.  
18...17...16  
He placed his hand on the small of my back, and led me inside. He flipped on the lights, illuminating a room with paintings all along the walls. I smiled as I took it all in. This was too easy. I turned around to face him.  
10...9...8 His eyes were starting to droop. I lifted my drink again and pretended to take a sip, while still keeping my eyes on him.  
5...4...3... He dropped to the ground. Oh well, I was close. The Ketamine I had spiked his drink with had obviously taken effect. He was out cold, with enough alcohol in his system to keep him knocked out until morning. The Kteamine won't cause any permanent damage, with the amount I gave him, but he would have no memory of any part of tonight, which is exactly what I needed. I put my drink down and looked over at him, deciding I would deal with him later; I wanted to look around first. I looked over the other paintings first, just to see if any of them were worth taking, but none of them even cam close. Besides i was here mainly to prove a point on the new FBI agent on my case. I turned to look at the painting I wanted, and set to work.

Spots P.O.V (the next morning)  
It was finally Friday, almost the start of the weekend. I had a pretty good feeling when I walked into the bureau. I had a feeling it was going to be a good day. The feeling only lasted about ten minutes, it all seemed to start sliding downhill when Blink informed me that Oscar Delancy had called with some kind of emergency. I regrettably picked up the not the phone to take his call, his frantic voice instantly filling my ear. I couldn't understand a word of what he was saying it was mainly a jumble of swear words.  
"Relax Oscar, I'll be there in a sec." I told him, before hanging up the phone and grabbing my jacket off the back of my chair. In no time I was pulling up to the million dollar home, and walking up to the front door. I was about to knock when the door was swung open by a very disgruntled looking Oscar. He was a mess. His eyes were bloodshot and he could hardly stand straight.  
"What happened?" I asked. When he opened his mouth to answer I could smell alcohol. "Are you drunk?" I asked.   
"Not anymore" He mumbled before ushering me inside.  
"Are you going to tell me what happened?" I asked impatiently.   
He didn't awnser; instead he just started walking down a hallway and led me into another room where the door was ajar.  
"What?" I asked, not really understanding what he was getting at, and really wanting him to tell me so I could just get back to the bureau. He just pointed. I followed the direction of his finger to the opposite wall. I blanched.  
"That's not...." I started, but he nodded, and put his head in his hands, confirming my worst fears. "But that's impossible! No one but you knew where it was! Was there a break in?" I asked. Still stunned. He picked up his head to look at me.  
"I can't remember."  
"This cannot be happening!" I almost shouted to myself.  
"Its worse... they left a note. I think it's for you." He said, pointing once again in the direction of the frame. I tentatively strode over to the frame. There, stuck to the wall, in the middle of the frame was a post-it note. It only had two words.

'Nice try.'

In sky blue Ink


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ROMEO!! Yay!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! So sorry on account of how late this is. Also I don’t proofread so sorry bout that too lol, anywayyyy have a great week y’all!

Race’s P.O.V.

The smell of freshly ground coffee beans overwhelmed me as I walked into the quaint little coffee shop on the corner. The bell overhead dinged, letting the boy at the counter know there was another customer. I looked around taking in my surroundings, which had become a habit to me. Satisfied that there was no immediate threats in the coffee shop, I proceeded to the counter. It looked like your average hipster coffee shop, a couple regulars thrown around sipping their drinks and furiously typing on computers, probably writing what they hoped would be their best seller. 

Most people would probably find them ridiculous, drinking coffee and typing away when they could be doing that at home for free, but each to his own I suppose. Coffee shops and cafés are the easiest places to people watch without anyone noticing. I scanned my eyes over each person and each of their faces before landing on a girl. She must of been in her early twenties, probably attending the university nearby, trying to write a paper of some sort. Her red curls were thrown in a very messy bun on top of her head, heals up by pencils. She had probably been working on this assignment for a while, based on the dark circles under her eyes. Next, my eyes landed on a man maybe in his mid fourties. The way he was staring at his computer only led me to believe he was struggling with writers block. I chuckled under my breath. If only he knew a famous criminal was standing two feet away from him, ordering a coffee, he would have a best seller. 

I stepped up to the counter with a smile on my face. 

“Hi! What can I get you?” The guy behind the counter asked with an overly enthusiastic smile. 

“Medium Carmel Macchiato please.” I told him. He nodded and pushed a few buttons on the cash register. “Are you new around here? I haven’t seen you before.” He said while starting on my drink.  
“No, I’m not new.” I replied. Short and discreet was pretty much my way of life. He was right though, grifters and con artists never stick around too long in one place, someone’s bound to recognize them and then all he’ll breaks loose. Which is too bad. This coffee shop was rather cute.  
“Sooo do you live around here?” He asked, his attempt of flirting with me was obviously failing.  
“I’m sorry how much did you say my coffe was?”  
“$3.75” he mumbled, looking dejected. I dropped the right amount of money on the counter and sat down at one of the tables, while I waited for him to finish my coffee. I automatically sat facing the door so there were no surprises. I hated surprises. I sat further back in the chair and looked around. 

Through a very well trained eye, I noticed a lot of things most people wouldn’t. Like the girl over in the corner by the potted plant. She had just gotten a new cat, but is allergic to it judging by the scratches on her arms and the tissue in her hand. My gaze shifted to the man reading a newspaper a few tables away. It looks like he just got a divorce, by the imprinted mark on his ring finger where the ring used to be. 

The doors of the coffee shop opened and the little bells jingled. My eyes automatically snapped to it. A man in his mid twenties walked in with brown colored hair and striking blue eyes. Damn. He was hot. He was wearing a brown coat over a nice suit. I watched him critically as he strode into the coffee shop. His eyes scanned the room similar to the way mine had.  
‘Wait a second....’  
As soon as he started walking I knew he was a cop. Most people would think I’m crazy for assuming so quickly but when you run from them, you learn to learn from them. His stride was calculated and even, slow staeady footsteps, showing that he was definitely coordinated. His left hand swung as he walked, brushing by his side where his gun would of been. Most likely a habit created to make sure his weapon was always with him.  
Oh yeah. This guy was definitely a cop.  
‘Well, this should be interesting.’ I watched with mild curiosity as he walked up to the counter. The guy working there’s eyes lit up as he saw him.  
“HEY! Spot! What can I get for ya today!”

‘Spot? What kinda nickname is that? I mean I guess I can’t really judge being nicknamed Racetrack.’ I continued to watch him but shrunk in on myself a bit more.  
“Just the usual today Ro.” He ordered a regular coffee so the he got it pretty quickly, actually just as soon as the other worker finished mine up. As I was walking over to the counter to get it the cop turned around unexpectedly. Good reflexes are the only thing that kept hot coffee from covering me as I side stepped just in time to avoid contact with him.  
“Oh, sorry about that.” He chuckled, sending me a warm smile and looking into my eyes. My heart thudded in my chest. I didn’t like being this close to someone who could arrest me if they had probable cause. NOT because he was cute. At all. Thank you very much. I looked into his blue eyes a moment longer than necessary before mumbling something incoherently, grabbing my own coffee and all but sprinting out the door.  
He wasn’t just a cop; I had noticed the badge on his belt. He was a FBI agent. Fuck.

Spots P.O.V.  
I watched confused as the cute boy pratically ran out of the coffee shop, blonde curls wild from the wind.   
“Hey, Romeo do you know who that was?” I asked the employee behind the counter while still looking out the door.  
“No.” He sighed. “But I sure would like to”  
“So... he’s not a regular?” I asked. Most people who came here were regulars; it was rare for people to come here randomly, opting for the Starbucks across the street instead.  
“Nope. And he made sure to stress the point.” He said. By the tone in his voice I had a feeling that wasn’t all he stressed to Romeo.

“Think he’ll come back?” I asked an amused smile playing at my lips.  
“Hopefully! I didn’t even get to give him my number!”  
“Well I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” I told him over my shoulder as I left the shop.

**Author's Note:**

> AHHH THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR READING!!!


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